Information

What happened at Bloody Corner?


Up until today, I was under the impression that there was a battle between the Danes and the locals on Bloody Corner in Northam, Devon UK.

This was possibly the death site of Hubba the Dane. It was told that Bone Hill in Northam is the mass burial site of the invading army.

However, a new bout of research has uncovered the possibility that the battle of bloody corner was actually between King Harold's sons Edmund and Godwine with an Irish army and William the Conqueror's forces.

Is this accurate? If so, would bone hill be the burial site of the invading Irish army?

A link to the article


Blair Witch Project Ending Explained

In 1999, The Blair Witch Project premiered in theaters, firmly cementing the found-footage genre as a huge horror moneymaker. The film was made on a shoestring budget of around $22,000 to $35,000 (reports vary), and would end up becoming a worldwide phenomenon, taking in $248 million. Part of the Blair Witch mania that took hold in the years following the film's release was due to its ambiguous ending. What did it mean? Was the tragic fate that befell the three aspiring filmmakers a supernatural one, or was it something more human in origin?

When it comes to the the events captured on a Hi-8 camcorder and 16mm black and white film, the truth is as murky as the video quality. We've undertaken careful analysis of the film's unsettling final act, which begins when the camera operator goes missing and ends in the basement of an abandoned house. When taken into consideration with creative team interviews, the extensive mythology that filmmakers Dan Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez constructed on their groundbreaking viral website, and the documentary-style specials produced before and after the film's premiere, the implications of the film's final act become much clearer. This is the Blair Witch Project ending explained.


The Shot of the Century: How Billy Dixon Changed History with a Bullet

The Shot of the Century was made by a buffalo hunter named Billy Dixon one Texas day in 1874. Dixon and a handful of other buffalo hunters were under siege by a massive force of Comanche, Kiowa, and Cheyenne warriors who’d united in a bloody effort to drive out the invaders from their hunting grounds. For three days, between 700-1,200 mounted warriors laid siege to Adobe Walls, a small trading post on the South Canadian River in the Texas Panhandle. Behind those walls, Dixon fought for his life alongside 27 other men and one woman. In the end, a legendary rifle shot ended the siege and sent the war party into retreat. Dixon’s incredible long-range shooting with a “Big Fifty” Sharps at 1,538 yards entered the history books as the Shot of the Century. How did one lone bullet have such an incredible effect? Find out with a little help from our friends at Guns.com.

Chief Quanah Parker led the massive war party against the buffalo hunters. Decades later, Quanah would recount what happened at Adobe Walls. The Plains Indians were following the advice of a powerful medicine man named White Eagle, who claimed to have the power of raising the dead. White Eagle had promised a great victory, assuring the warriors that the white man’s bullets would fall to the ground, unable to harm them. According to Quanah Parker, White Eagle said, “I stop the bullets in gun. Bullets not penetrate shirts. We kill them just like old women.”

The fight wasn’t the swift victory White Eagle had prophesied. The battle had become a siege, with the buffalo hunters still holding out after days of fighting. Four of those hunkered down behind the thick adobe walls had lost their lives, and an estimated 13 native warriors had died under fire from the buffalo hunters’ long-range rifles.

On the morning of June 28, 1874, the third day of the fight, the Plains Indians convened a war council. The war chiefs and White Eagle sat their horses on a bluff about a mile away from Adobe Walls and discussed what course of action they should take. The warriors were angry with the medicine man. They demanded to know if there were now bad omens, if the buffalo hunters possessed some magic of their own.

“What’s the matter with your medicine?” Quanah Parker asked White Eagle. “You got pole cat medicine?” White Eagle defended his prophecies. He admitted the buffalo hunters had strong medicine, but their defeat was still a certainty, he promised.

Meanwhile, down in Adobe Walls, Billy Dixon took aim. He was using a Sharps Big Fifty, a single-shot with an octagonal, 34-inch barrel, firing a .50, 600-grain bullet driven by 125 grains of black powder. He dialed in his adjustable rear peep sight and got ready. He was aiming for the group of riders on the bluff, rather than any one particular target, and in later years he would call it a lucky shot, though he would also note, “I was not without confidence in my marksmanship.”

White Eagle punctuated the heights of his oratory by raising his staff and shouting, “Today, the victory is ours!” At that very moment, a warrior named Ton-han-kah fell off his horse. It was a full 4.1 seconds later when the warriors heard the distant roar of the Sharps rifle that had fired the shot.

“Some of the boys suggested that I try the big ‘50’ on them,” Dixon said of the incident later. “I took careful aim and pulled the trigger. We saw an Indian fall from his horse.” Dixon believed his bullet had killed the warrior, but later Comanche accounts claim the wounded man was hit in the elbow and suffered a broken arm.

Photo of Isatai’I, the medicine man formerly known as White Eagle: Wikimedia Commons

The Shot of the Century sent the war party into a retreat, and the siege on Adobe Walls was lifted. White Eagle had earned the hatred and derision of his fellow warriors. They changed his name to Isatai’I, which meant “Coyote Vagina,” the type of insult common among the rough Comanche warriors.

The Second Battle of Adobe Walls, as it came to be known, led to the Red River War, which in turn brought about the defeat of the Southern Cheyenne, Kiowa, and Comanche, and the end of their reign on the Southern Plains. Though the fight at Adobe Walls wasn’t a major historic battle, it marked the spiritual defeat of the Southern Plains tribes, who saw the superhuman powers of their medicine man fail them.


The Six Most Terrifying Serial Killer Families In History

Couples who kill together — Fred and Rosemary West , Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo , David and Catherine Birnie — get plenty of ink. But what about siblings and larger family groups whose shared viciousness leads them into committing horrifying crimes? Read on for six especially nasty examples.

1) “The Bloody Benders”

A gang of four so ferocious they have the catchy nickname to prove it, the Benders settled in isolated Labette County, Kansas, in the early 1870s. They were followers of the newfangled Spiritualism movement, and the family superstar was its most comely member (and also the one who was most fluent in English , since everyone else had major German accents), Kate, who was in her early 20s. Though the main Bender business was running a small store and inn for travelers , Kate was also renowned for performing seances that showed off her psychic abilities . Between the hotel’s convenient location just off the Osage Trail , and Kate’s mysterious allure , there were no shortage of strangers that happened to pass by.

But all was not what it seemed in this windswept corner of southeastern Kansas. Though the Benders lived together in a family-like configuration of husband, wife, and young-adult son and daughter, historians suspect that not only were they not actually related, they weren’t even named Bender . Which, normally, who really cares, right? It’s just that so many people who happened to pass through Labette County never made it to their final destinations , including a well-known local doctor , William York. After a community meeting (attended by both male Benders) resulted in a search party’s formation, it was soon noted that the Bender homestead appeared recently abandoned .

The Benders were gone, but they left behind plenty of evidence revealing what had gone on at their farm:

Near the table where guests were served was a trap door and the foul smelling hole beneath the door was clotted with blood. The ground in an orchard near the house had been carefully plowed but one small section was noticeably indented. The ground was dug up revealing the decomposed body of Dr. York. His skull had been crushed and his throat had been cut. Before nightfall seven more bodies were extracted and another was found the next day.

The victims included two children, including an infant that died after being buried alive . But most of the travelers suffered bloodier ends :

Guests at the inn were urged to sit in the place of honor, which was against [a curtain dividing the house’s rooms]. While dining, the guest of honor would be hit in the head with a hammer from behind the curtain, his throat would be slit, and then his body dropped into the trap door to the cellar. One man, Mr. Wetzell, heard the story and remembered when he was at the inn and declined to sit in the designated spot. His decision caused Ma Bender to become angry and abusive toward him, and when he saw the male Benders emerge from behind the curtain, he and his companion decided to leave.

Their motive? Robbery . or just the thrill of it . Despite a reward and several unsubstantiated claims of their capture at the hands of various posses, the Benders appear to have gotten away with murder, and their grim story continues to intrigue . From 1961-1978, the town nearest their Kansas killing grounds, Cherryvale, operated a museum constructed to be an exact copy of their house (check out photos of the eerie installation here ).

In 2012, it was rumored that Guillermo del Toro would be involved in bringing the Benders’ real-life tale of horror to the big screen. Though it never came to be, the killer family has been featured in literature and pop culture over the years, not to mention the recipient of their very own state historical marker:

2) Delfina and María de Jesús González

These sisters hold the Guinness World Record for “ Most Prolific Murder Partnership ,” a dubious honor they earned due to their estimated 91 kills. Their victims were plucked from the brothel they ran together in Mexico, the Rancho El Angel. (Two additional sisters, Carmen and Maria Luisa , were also implicated in the deaths, though for whatever reason they didn’t make the cut for a Guinness shout-out.)

There’s not as much information on the González family as the Bloody Benders, despite the fact that the sisters were actually caught, and their crimes were committed much more recently. (Both received 40-year sentences in 1964 ). According to Murderpedia , however:

The police picked up a woman named Josefina Gutiérrez, a procuress, on suspicion of kidnapping young girls in the Guanajuato area, and during questioning, she implicated the two sisters. Police officers searched the sisters’ property and found the bodies of 11 men, 80 women and several fetuses, a total of over 91.

Investigations revealed the scheme was that they would recruit prostitutes through help-wanted ads though the ads would state the girls would become maids for the two sisters. Many of the girls were force fed heroin or cocaine. The sisters killed the prostitutes when they became too ill, damaged by repeated sexual activity, lost their looks or stopped pleasing the customers.

They would also kill customers who showed up with large amounts of cash. When asked for an explanation for the deaths, one of the sisters reportedly said, “The food didn’t agree with them.”

3) Sawney Bean Clan

If you thought The Hills Have Eyes’ charming family of cannibalistic cave-dwellers who preyed on vulnerable travelers were a figment of filmmaker Wes Craven’s prodigious imagination, think again. Papa Jupiter and company had some historical inspiration . Though the story may have been invented as political propaganda during the 18th century , the legend’s been around for centuries, and some think (or hope) it’s at least partly based on fact . At any rate, the sensational tale is even more terrifying than any horror-movie homage.

Sawney Bean (or Beane), the story goes , was the patriarch of a large clan which increased its population via incest and enjoyed dining on human flesh, procured via unfortunate travelers who happened to pass by their lair: a sea cave on the western edge of Scotland.

Eventually, it’s said, the sheer number of missing people (and repeated incidences of body parts that washed up on local beaches ) spurred an investigation. According to the narrative, no less than King James IV took up the cause, deploying 400 men and a pack of bloodhounds to track down Sawney’s inbred fun bunch and expose their repulsive crimes. What they found was indeed stomach-turning:

The men entered the cave and found a horrible scene: dried parts of human bodies were hanging all from the roof, pickled limbs lay in barrels, and all around piles of money and trinkets from the pockets of the dead lay in piles.

Again, this one’s probably not true, but it’s included here for its deliciously gruesome details, and the fact that the story is so long-standing. It’s still being passed on into contemporary lore via tourist attractions like the Edinburgh Dungeon .

Image of Sawney Bean (and woman in background carrying some to-be-pickled limbs!) licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

4) The Briley Brothers

The Bean brigade may never have existed, but the three brothers who rampaged around Richmond, Virginia in the late 1970s most certainly did. “ Briley Is Scheduled To Die Late Tonight ,” a somber 1985 Washington Post headline reads atop a story detailing the last chapter in the reign of terror wrought by James (or “J.B.”), Linwood, and Anthony Briley. James and Linwood met their ends within months of each other in Virginia’s electric chair.

Linwood, the oldest brother, was 30 when he died. His first kill was at age 16, when he shot an elderly neighbor who happened to be outdoors and within range of his bedroom window. He only served one year for the crime. A few years later, he and his two brothers, plus a fourth accomplice, began their brutal robbery, rape, and killing spree, dispatching random victims with exceptionally cruel methods (including crushing a teenager’s skull with a cinderblock ). It lasted seven months and claimed 10 lives , including several elderly people, a pregnant woman, and her five-year-old son. Two more victims who were doused in gas and set ablaze managed to survive.

After their murder convictions, Linwood and J.B. made further headlines in 1984 when they led a group of six inmates in a dramatic escape from death row. (They were re-captured 19 days later. The Brileys’ childhood home became a news item late last year when a developer, who’d purchased the fixer-upper from the brothers’ father, quickly put it on the market for a bargain price after realizing the notoriety of the address .

5) “Big” and “Little” Harpe

Though history can’t quite confirm whether “ America’s first serial killers ” were actually brothers or cousins, North Carolina-born Micajah (the taller one, hence the nickname distribution) and Wiley Harpe made for a most grim duo. Operating before, during, and after the Revolutionary War, the pair detoured from their original career plan (to be plantation overseers) to fight on the side of the British, committing abundant rapes and acts of arson along the way . They were also horse thieves, a crime that put them on the radar of the law . and spurred them into their true calling, that of murderous outlaws.

According to a wonderfully descriptive Nashville Scene story:

Their trail of slaughter begins in late 1798 at Hughes Tavern, a watering hole west of Knoxville. An 18th century tavern could serve as a town hall or center of early governance, but not this “rowdy groggery” known to the Harpes and other roughnecks. Little Harpe even manages to get into a scrape that ends with a knife wound in his chest, courtesy of one John Bowman, which doesn’t mean much at the time. It would take more than a cat scratch to lay out a Harpe.

Among the drinkers on hand is a man named Johnson. Whether he had snitched on the Harpes at some point is a matter of speculation. Regardless, a few days later, a traveler spots something floating in the nearby Holston River. It is a man’s body, disposed of in a hideous way.

The man’s guts have been ripped out. The cavity is stuffed with stones, intended to sink the carcass to the bottom. They must have dislodged, or the man known as Johnson wouldn’t have his sole claim to posterity — as the first of what would become many more victims.

The pair, accompanied by a group of “ wives ” who may or may not have been willing accomplices, would go on to commit more than 40 murders (read enough about the Harpes and you’ll notice certain words start to repeat, including “beheaded” and “disembowled”). They also dabbled in river piracy .

Eventually, they were captured and met their ends in a manner that befitted the way they’d lived. “Big” Harpe was captured in 1800, while “Little” met his end in 1804, writes Legends of America . Both were beheaded and their heads put on display as a deterrent to anyone who thought about emulating their lifestyle see the Kentucky roadside marker commemorating Big Harpe’s downfall here .

6) Inessa Tarverdiyeva and Family

Included so that nobody thinks that serial-killing families are a thing of the distant past, this colorful Russian family was nabbed in September 2013. According to a breathless Daily Mail report, nursery-school teacher Inessa Tarverdiyeva and her husband, dentist Roman Podkopayev, were behind “a six-year reign of terror including at least 30 murders and countless robberies.” Among the dead: six cops and multiple children, including Inessa’s teenage goddaughter, whose eyes were gouged out.

Tarverdiyeva’s daughter from her first marriage Viktoria Tarverdiyeva, 25 and her 13-year-old daughter Anastasiya ‘actively took part in all crimes’, say police in the Rostov region.

The Mail notes that the family would plan camping trips to provide cover for their robbery and murder sprees. Motivated by greed and an apparent hatred of police , they operated under the radar for years.

Vladimir Markin, chief of Russia’s equivalent of the FBI, said: ‘They looked like a totally good, nice family. Imagine them - a mother, a father, two children, including an underage girl.

‘I am sure that when they were together one could hardly imagine that they could even plan a crime.’

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From around where I grew up in north-central Louisiana: http://www.thepineywoods.com/westKimb.htm

This is a story that has yet to be told in full. As recently as the 1990’s I have firsthand knowledge of verbal threats by the descendants of the West/Kimbrell clan. While in graduate school, I started a research project during the summer of 1994 hoping to write a thesis on this little known piece of Louisiana history with the hopes of one day writing a novel or series of novels fictionalizing the story. While asking questions at a cemetery work day I was approached by two older gentlemen and ordered to leave the cemetery or be thrown out. I found out sometime later that one of the two men was the great-great-great nephew of Lawson Kimbrell. Three years ago we made contact with a family in Detroit who are the direct descendant’s of Pad West or Patch West, a once slave of the West Clan who, upon being freed after the Civil War, chose to continue to serve his former master. A local legend claims that Uncle Pad died the caretaker of a considerable sum of plundered gold and silver, none of which was ever found, said to be buried somewhere in the pine forest near his home place. He is buried in a slave cemetery adjacent to my families property. Several members his extended family, still bearing the name West, came down to conduct their own research and, I am told, were met with what might call unspoken or subtle threats and were told something to the effect of leave well enough alone. Hard to imagine it, but some 140 years later, bad blood still runs through that part of Louisiana.


Bloody Sunday Protest March, Selma, Alabama, March 7, 1965

Between 1961 and 1964, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) had led a voting registration campaign in Selma, the seat of Dallas County, Alabama, a small town with a record of consistent resistance to black voting. When SNCC’s efforts were frustrated by stiff resistance from the county law enforcement officials, Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) were persuaded by local activists to make Selma’s intransigence to black voting a national concern. SCLC also hoped to use the momentum of the 1964 Civil Rights Act to win federal protection for a voting rights statute.

During January and February 1965, King and SCLC led a series of demonstrations to the Dallas County Courthouse. On February 18, protester Jimmy Lee Jackson was shot by an Alabama state trooper and died eight days later. In response, a protest march from Selma to Montgomery was scheduled for March 7.

Six hundred marchers assembled in Selma on Sunday, March 7, and led by John Lewis and other SNCC and SCLC activists, crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge over the Alabama River en route to Montgomery. Just short of the bridge, they found their way blocked by Alabama State troopers and local police who ordered them to turn around. When the protesters refused, the officers shot teargas and waded into the crowd, beating the nonviolent protesters with billy clubs and ultimately hospitalizing over fifty people.

“Bloody Sunday” was televised around the world. Martin Luther King called for civil rights supporters to come to Selma for a second march. When members of Congress pressured him to restrain the march until a court could rule on whether the protesters deserved federal protection, King found himself torn between their requests for patience and demands of the movement activists pouring into Selma. King, still conflicted, led the second protest on March 9 but turned it around at the same bridge. King’s actions exacerbated the tension between SCLC and the more militant SNCC, who were pushing for more radical tactics that would move from nonviolent protest to win reforms to active opposition to racist institutions.

On March 21, the final successful march began with federal protection, and on August 6, 1965, the federal Voting Rights Act was passed, completing the process that King had hoped for. Yet Bloody Sunday was about more than winning a federal act it highlighted the political pressures King was negotiating at the time, between movement radicalism and federal calls for restraint, as well as the tensions between SCLC and SNCC.


This is a place where the everyday and the extraordinary converge

Britain’s tiny island has often been branded ‘a nation of shopkeepers’ – it’s a phrase that was once believed to be a Napoleonic insult, though it was positively declared by Scottish economist/philosopher Adam Smith, in his 1776 book The Wealth of Nations. The staple British corner shop as we know it dates back to Victorian times much would also be made of so-called ‘Iron Lady’ UK Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s background as a grocer’s daughter: the corner shop represented humble yet sturdy trade. Our sense of quaint pride in its identity and evolution (from formal counter-service to grab-and-go purchases) was recently portrayed in a BBC reality documentary, Back in Time for the Corner Shop, where a real-life Sheffield family lived and worked as local shop retailers, in ‘eras’ spanning the late 19th Century to the 1990s.

Ronnie Barker starred as shopkeeper Albert Arkwright, and David Jason as his hapless nephew Granville in the classic British sitcom Open All Hours

While there are obviously national/regional variations in set-up, the corner shop surely serves a universal, relatable need, as US writer Robert Spector notes in his book The Mom & Pop Store: How the Unsung Heroes of The American Economy Are Surviving and Thriving. Spector’s take is contemporary rather than nostalgic, although in a 2010 interview with marketplace.org, he points out that the qualities associated with a corner shop (and its independent keepers) are enduring: “When you’re an entrepreneur, all you have is your good name,” says Spector. “Therefore, you have to be an honest, honourable person in order to survive. Very simple stuff, but very important stuff.”

Mom and pop culture

That solid reliability, along with the idiosyncratic layout of a corner shop (piled high with necessities, from tinned goods to greetings cards and hosiery), is used to dramatic effect in pop culture this is a place where the everyday and the extraordinary converge. One stand-out scene is in Brit ’zom-rom-com’ Shaun of the Dead (2004), where the film’s titular hero (Simon Pegg) blearily pops to the local shop for a can of cola and an ice-cream, oblivious to the bloody handprints on the shop fridge, or the lurching undead on the street outside for a few minutes, we are absorbed in the familiarity: scanning the available drinks, listening to the Hindi pop song on the shop radio, leaving change at the strangely empty counter (Shaun assumes that the local shopkeeper will understand if he’s a few pennies short). A small town shop (strictly speaking, the Federal Foods Supermarket) is also where Stephen King’s 1980 horror novella The Mist unfolds in a typically gruesome way. In a comparatively light-hearted farce, Brit film Convenience (2013) has two would-be store robbers forced to work the night shift instead of completing their heist, while Corner Shop: Thank You, Come Again (2019) involves siblings in a comedy feud. In Spike Lee classics, such as Do The Right Thing (1989), Brooklyn’s bodegas are at the heart of the drama on the streets.

Stephen King novella The Mist – made into a 2007 film – centres around a small-town store


Tensions grew between the Wampanoag and the English settlers years after the Plymouth Thanksgiving.

Massasoit, the sachem, or paramount chief, of the Wampanoag, proved to be a crucial ally to the English settlers in the years after the establishment of Plymouth. He set up an exclusive trade pact with the newcomers and allied with them against the French and other local tribes like the Narragansett and the Massachusetts.

But the alliance became strained over time.

Thousands of English colonists poured into the region throughout the 17th century. According to "Historic Contact: Indian People and Colonists in Today's Northeastern United States," authorities in Plymouth began asserting control over "most aspects of Wampanoag life," as settlers increasingly ate up more land.

The Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History estimated disease had already reduced the Native American population in New England by as much as 90% from 1616 to 1619, and Indigenous people continued to die from what the colonists called "Indian fever."

By the time Massasoit's son Metacomet — known to the English as "King Philip" — inherited leadership, relations had frayed. King Phillip's War was sparked when several of Metacomet's men were executed for the murder of the Punkapoag interpreter and Christian convert John Sassamon.

Wampanoag warriors responded by embarking on a series of raids, and the New England Confederation of Colonies declared war in 1675.

The initially neutral Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations was ultimately dragged into the fighting, as were other nearby tribes like the Narragansett.


Share All sharing options for: Fight Archives: Igor Vovchanchyn’s cold-blooded knockout of Francisco Bueno

One of MMA’s most brutal knockouts happened in the sport’s earlier years.

Who doesn’t love a good, clean knockout? Well, unless you’re not a fan of any form of violence, you’ll likely find sheer satisfaction in seeing an individual get their systems shut off by a single strike.

And if you’ve been watching this sport for a long time now, you were likely in awe when you witnessed Igor Vovchanchyn knock out Francisco Bueno at PRIDE 8 in ‘99.

This was actually a wicked mismatch if you look at it on paper. Bueno was an experienced grappler and competed in the ADCC, but he entered the contest with merely two pro fights under his belt. He also gave up 13 pounds in weight.

Vovchanchyn, at the time, already fought a total of 41 times and had compiled a 38-2 (1 NC) record. 31 of those wins ended by KO. Every single one of them happened in the first round.

The action itself was also predictable. Both men danced around for more than a minute, with Vovchanchyn leading every step. He was pushing Bueno towards the fence and waiting for that perfect opportunity to pounce.

He finally traps Bueno into one of the neutral corner posts. He throws two hooks with the second punch landing squarely on the left jaw, turning Bueno’s lights out immediately. Another one lands on the exact same spot as Bueno falls face-first into the canvas, eyes opened.

For many hardcore fans, this remains to be one of the most vicious knockouts in MMA history. Tapology has this fight in the top 50 of its all-time best list for PRIDE. And it’s easy to see why.


Abandoned West Virginia amusement park has a bloody history

It has been decades since the Lake Shawnee Amusement Park buzzed with the laughter of children.

But according to local legend, the park is still a playground for ghosts.

The southern West Virginia park was abandoned in 1966, after the accidental deaths of two of its young patrons. But it seems Lake Shawnee's haunted history reaches much farther back.

Mercer County was home to a Native American tribe until 1783, when a European family's attempt to settle the land sparked a violent turf war. The patriarch of the family was a farmer named Mitchell Clay, according to the Wyoming County Report. While he was out hunting, a band of Native Americans reportedly killed his youngest son, Bartley Clay. A daughter, Tabitha, was knifed to death in the struggle. Eldest son Ezekial was kidnapped and burned at the stake. Mitchell Clay enlisted the help of other white settlers to seek vengeance for his family. After burying his children, he murdered several of the Native Americans.


The Person Behind The Real Bloody Mary Story

The origin of the Bloody Mary story lies with Queen Mary I, the first queen regnant of England.

The legendary monarch now known as Bloody Mary was born on February 18, 1516 in Greenwich, England at the Palace of Placentia. The only child of King Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, Mary’s lifetime of shame over her own femininity began at the young age of 17 when her father annulled his marriage to her mother, frustrated by the lack of a male heir to the throne. This left the young Mary totally separated from her mother and forbidden from ever visiting her again.

The king went on to marry his now ex-wife’s maid of honor, Anne Boleyn, who disappointed him with yet another daughter, Elizabeth. Worried that Mary may interfere with Elizabeth’s succession, Boleyn pressed Parliament to declare Mary illegitimate, and succeeded.

Wikimedia Commons Anne Boleyn

Of course, Boleyn was later beheaded by her husband for treason, but by this time the damage to Mary’s name had been done.


Bloody Sunday

Bloody Sunday "Bloody Sunday" refers to the March 7, 1965, civil rights march that was supposed to go from Selma to the capitol in Montgomery to protest the shooting death of activist Jimmie Lee Jackson. The roughly 600 marchers were violently driven back by Alabama State Troopers, Dallas County Sheriff's deputies, and a horse-mounted posse after they crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge. The state and county officers beat and gassed the unarmed marchers in an attack, and media coverage of the event shocked the nation and led ultimately to the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The descriptive term appeared in relation to the events within days in the national media. James Bevel The catalyst for the march was the death of 26-year-old Jimmie Lee Jackson on February 26. He was shot in the stomach on February 18, 1965, by Alabama State Trooper James Fowler while the troopers were breaking up a peaceful protest in Marion, Perry County. Jackson was then taken the 50 miles to Selma's Good Samaritan Hospital for treatment, where he died eight days later. At a memorial service for Jackson on February 28, Rev. James Bevel of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) called for blacks to follow the example of the biblical Queen Esther, who risked her life by going to the king of Persia to appeal for her people. Bevel stated that the activists must similarly march to Montgomery to demand protection from Gov. George C. Wallace. Two days later, civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. offered the support of the SCLC to head up a march from Selma to Montgomery on Sunday, March 7, to protest Jackson's death and to push for voting rights. Wilson Baker and Jim Clark On Sunday, March 7, the state troopers, under the command of Maj. John Cloud, along with Sheriff Jim Clark's deputies and mounted posse, were assembled at the end of the Edmund Pettus Bridge by noon. The march did not begin on time, however, because King had not returned from Atlanta, and there was a good deal of confusion about whether or not to postpone the march. Finally, King was reached by phone and gave permission to proceed in his absence. When the marchers first left Brown Chapel AME Church at 1:40 p.m., they were stopped by Wilson Baker, who ordered them to follow the usual rules for such events: marching two-by-two, five feet apart. The demonstrators went to a nearby playground to regroup and set out once again at 2:18 p.m. Under the leadership of Hosea Williams of SCLC and John Lewis of SNCC, they marched south on Sylvan Street (now Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard) to Alabama Avenue, then west on Alabama to Broad Street, and finally south on Broad across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. John Lewis Injured During March Wilson Baker then confronted Clark and told him to take control of his men and leave the area. (Baker would be remembered in a positive light for his actions. He defeated Clark in the 1966 race for sheriff with the support of newly enfranchised blacks.) Clark reluctantly withdrew his forces, making it possible for ambulances to pick up the injured and race them to Selma's two black hospitals, Good Samaritan and Burwell Infirmary. Fifty-six patients were treated at the two hospitals, with 18 being admitted overnight, including John Lewis, who had a fractured skull. Marching to Montgomery On Tuesday, March 9, the marchers made a second attempt, led by King, but turned back at the end of the bridge, earning the day the nickname "Turnaround Tuesday." A third and successful attempt began under the protection of the Alabama National Guard (which had been placed under federal control by President Johnson) on Sunday, March 21, two weeks after the initial effort. The marchers finally reached Montgomery on Thursday, March 25. The Voting Rights Bill that King, Lewis, and so many other civil rights leaders had sought was signed into law August 6, 1965.

On March 7, 2015, Pres. Barack Obama attended the 50th anniversary commemoration of Bloody Sunday and also signed into law a bill awarding a Congressional Gold Medal to those individuals who participated in the three Selma to Montgomery marches. The bill was originally introduced by Rep. Terri Sewell of Alabama's Seventh Congressional District, which includes Selma and portions of Montgomery. A companion bill was introduced by Alabama senator Jeff Sessions.

Fager, Charles. Selma 1965: The March That Changed the South. Boston: Beacon Press, 1975.